Friday, March 18, 2011

I've been so wrapped up in wanting to make another baby, and dreaming of McBabe #2 and the life we will have with him or her. I feel guilty, because wanting another makes me feel like I'm giving up on Jack, when he was our dream just a few short months ago.

I realize this is illogical, that we can't have Jack. I just can't help but feel badly for all the things he will never get to do. That we will do without him.

He'll never smile. He'll never kiss his momma or his daddy. Draw on our walls with crayon, or stick Playdoh in his ears and nose. He'll never scrape a knee or bruise a finger. He'll never succeed or fail at anything. He'll never read, he'll never travel. He'll never fall in love, get married, and have babies of his own. So much died along with Jack. So many dreams we had for him, that our families had for him. He could have been anyone, he could have been anything.

Along with that, we'll never get to kiss him again. Hold his hands, walk him around the block in his UppaBaby Vista (something I was SOOOOO looking forward to). We'll never get to take him to Disney, nor take him swimming or to school. I'll never dance with him at his wedding, see him graduate from university, never get to see him with his one true love.

But our next baby, and the babies which will follow. I hope to do those things with them. I want so badly to do the things we wished to do with Jack, and I feel guilty for it. I feel guilty for looking forward to a future which CAN'T include him, no matter how much we want it to. I feel like we're closing a chapter of our lives, the shortest, sweetest, saddest chapter ever written.

I know he'll always be with us, and we'll always think of him. I know a part of him lives on for always both in ourselves and in the legacy he has left. We'll use his things again for the rest of our babies, the things we bought with Jack in mind and with Jack in our hearts. His crib. His dresser. His stroller. His rug, change pad, diapers, and clothes. Other babies will read his books, look at his art. All this great stuff we collected for Jack, was actually Jack collecting for his siblings. What a great big brother, eh?

I wish, more than anything, this chapter had a different ending. That Jack was here with me, snoozing beside me in bed. But he isn't, and he can't. As much as this chapter is closing, I hope another begins soon. A different baby, a different story, a different ending- a happier one.

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comments:

Girl, you've got me sitting on the beach in tears. I been thinking about everything hayes is missing out on. It is heartbreaking, isn't it? And we have to go the rest of our lives thinking about it. I still have trouble processing that.

I'm so sorry to hear about Jack... I can only imagine a fraction of what you're going through. I know how you feel about dreaming of your next little one... there's hope in thinking into the future. Thinking of you and here to share the journey with you xoxo

I had a very similar moment, watching the end of Slumdog Millionaire, probably a month after our son died, where I realized I will never see him fall in love, never see him dance with joy with his true love...and it absolutely shattered me. All those lost dreams.

I've been reading some of your posts and I'm just heartbroken your Jack isn't here with you. It's coming up to 18 months for us but I remember the all consuming desire to be pregnant again and have another baby and the guilt that goes with that. It's tough and that's an understatement.